Extremely Amazing!
by Artoveli
Summary: Oh, man. After six years of pining, spying on Sarah, and practicing his contact juggling, Jareth has had a brilliant idea. Get this: Why not try to get back together with Sarah? Crazy, right? Crazy amazing! Whoa! Complications? Perherherherhaps!
1. Chapter One

Jareth sat on his famous window ledge, pining. Always with the pining. For whom does He pine? If you don't know _that_, chances are you belong in another fandom.

"Woe is me. So bad. Without Sarah my life is meaningless. I don't even feel like governing anymore. So, you know, I won't."

Jareth hadn't been governing, and doing it quite well, for several years now. He rarely left his famous window ledge and scarcely did anything but spy on Sarah through his crystals. And practice his contact juggling.

"Sirrrr?" came a bored voice from behind Jareth. It was Pooktook, the Garden Pnome.

"What are you doing in here, you?" Jareth threw a crystal at the little guy. Missed him by a mile. It landed in a convenient pile of… er… rags?

"Wha-?!" Pooktook jumped. "Is that any way to ask a question? I was respectful as all get out, and you up and throw a crystal at me bef –"

"Yeah. Sorry. Can you pass it back to me, by the way? Be a pal?"

Pooktook picked the crystal out of the rags and tossed it back to the Goblin King.

"Check this action out." Jareth rolled the crystal around on the top of his hand. "Bet you can't do that, eh?"

Pooktook crossed his arms and watched Jareth quietly. "You know what your problem is?"

"Nope. Or, rather, yes. It's Sarah. Why'd she go off and leave me like that anyway?"

The little Pnome shook his head. Jareth continued.

"I mean, I thought everything was going great. Then she up and says those… stupid… words, and we're back to square one. Only way worse than square one. Cause now she hates me or something!"

"Can you blame her? Dude, you stole her _baby brother_. You threw her into an oubliette. You sicked the cleaners on her. You sent her to the bog of eternal stench. You --"

"Took her to a party!"

"An LSD induced party, yes. Then you got the junk lady to try and distract her from getting where she wanted to go. Then you made her fight the gate guard. Then you sent the army out to fire cannonballs at her. _That_ was a nice touch."

"And then, in a dramatic final confrontation, I confessed my love for her! What more did she want?"

"Jareth, do I really have to spell it out for you? You were sending all the wrong signals. She hates you because you were doing the opposite of what you should have been doing if you wanted her to love you. Okay?"

Jareth slumped against the side of the window and huffed. "So what do you suggest I do?"

"I suggest you forget about it, Jareth! You've got a kingdom to run, dash it! It's been six years! Do you intend to sit up here forever?"

"I can never forget Sarah! I'll never be able to put her behind me! I'll never be able to do anything but pine! Nyaaa!"

"Nice. Well, Jareth, I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I guess the only thing to do is to get you and Sarah back together. Poor girl."

Jareth snapped his head up and stared at the Pnome.

"Oh, man. Best idea ever!"

"Took you six years to _not_ think of it, huh?"

"Oh man. Oh man! Ohohoho maaaan!" Jareth hopped off his perch and started pacing the room in a frenzy. "What will I wear? What will I say? What will I do?"

"I'm sure you'll figure all of that out. But in the next chapter."


	2. Chapter Deux

CHAPTER DEUX

Sarah was sitting at her famous vanity, brushing her hair. And probably thinking too. Probably thinking about that time six years ago when she'd run the Labyrinth, actually. It's what she generally thought about when she sat at her famous vanity.

In the intervening years she had grown six years older, graduated from high school, and become a successful butcher. She owned her own shop and was looking to expand. She was, however, still living at home. Right now though she was sitting at her famous vanity, brushing her hair and probably thinking.

"Sarah! Hi, Sarah! Hi!"

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed, setting down the brush. She knew who she'd see when she opened them. Yup, there he was, waving madly.

"Cad-blame it Franklin!" she shouted at the fiery in her mirror.

"Will you marry me yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No!"

"… Now?"

"Franklin, forget it. I'm never going to marry you."

"But Saaa-rah, you say that _every_ day!"

"Maybe you should take a hint. And/or a hike."

"But I love you with an ardor as… big as… a… giant squid."

"Really." Sarah wasn't sure she could actually define the word 'ardor', but she was reasonably sure it wasn't something you could measure by size. All squidding aside. Sorry. She held her chin in her hands, pulling down on her face tiredly. "I'm sorry Franklin, but my heart belongs to another."

The Fiery - who's unlikely name happened to be Franklin D. Svelte – crossed his arms and glared at the mirror frame. "It's Jareth, isn't it."

Sarah held her head. They'd had this conversation before. Yesterday. "Nooooo, Franklin, it is not Jareth."

"Admit it. The whole of the Labyrinth is abuzz with talk of yours and Jareth's obsession with each other, sheesh."

Sarah sighed, yet again. Six years. Plus the trying to kill her and everyone around her thing. Not generally good feelings toward this guy, no. Why – no really, _WHY - _ could nobody see it her way? _Ever?_ Anyone she met? The whole world was against her!

There was a polite knock at the door. Franklin disappeared instantly and a quiet voice from outside said:

"Sarah? It's dinnertime. I made your favorite."

Sarah groaned and rolled her eyes. It was the voice of her overbearrrring underappreeeeciating generally eeeeevil stepmother.

"I'm busy, Karen!"

"It's… Anna."

"Whatev. I'm still busy."

"… Alright Sarah, I'll bring some up on a plate for you."

"How like a prison warden!"

Anna hung her head and took her leave, sadly trudging back down the stairs.

Toby, who had a habit of listening at keyholes and public addresses, poked his seven-year-old head into the room.

"Sarah. Why do you make sense one minute and act crazy the next?" Yeah, Toby was a pretty dang discerning seven-year-old.

"I'm a woman. Don't you judge me!"

--- MEANWHILE, IN THE LABYRINTH ---

"Aw, man." Jareth groaned, rubbing his temples. "I haven't been able to think of _anything!"_ He and Pooktook were sitting across from each other on the floor of the previous-chapter room.

"I know." Pooktook said. "Maybe in the next chapter."


	3. Chapter Tres

CHAPTER TRES

"So I've got some ideas." Jareth said, plunking down on the floor beside Pooktook, who was dozing.

"Snga -- huh?"

"Let me know what you think. And be honest."

Pooktook rubbed his face and prepared to listen.

"What if I get a job in her school, as a substitute guidance councilor or something?"

"She's graduated."

"Oh right, yeah. New supervisor at her work?"

"I… really don't think butcher shops work that way. I could be wrong. Doesn't she own it anyway?"

"Okay, no then. How about I steal something else that belongs to her? I could even steal Toby again."

"NO. No, Jareth. _ No_."

"Ingratiate myself to her parents at work and get myself invited over for supper?"

"Think of the scene that could cause!"

Jareth was getting exasperated. "You don't like any of my ideas! Why don't I just pop up in her house and take her back with me?"

"Because you want this to go better than last time, right? My advice to you is to come at the situation from a completely new angle."

"Like, how?"

"Maybe disguise yourself as a normal human and subtly ease yourself into her life somehow, initiating harmless conversations on inanities. Eventually, once she considers you a friendly acquaintance, you might reveal your true identity."

"And she'll be swept off her feet and agree to give up mortal life and be my queen forever!" Jareth pumped his arms up into the air. "Woo! I'm hungry. Want some nachos?"

Pooktook sighed. He was good at sighing. But this was the most animated Jareth had been in a very long time, so who was _he_ to rain on his crazy parade?

--

Sarah wrapped up the woman's order, two pounds of ground beef, after weighing it in the snazzy silver grocer's scale. She handed the bundle across the counter to the lady, who smiled.

"Trying out a new recipe." The woman said.

"Well I hope it turns out for you, Ma'am." Sarah smiled back at the little old woman.

There was a whole bit here involving an ethereal dumpster, but it's been cut. I think it's for the better.

Moments after the old lady had gone, a tall man entered the shop. He wore a fedora and a long black cloak. He stood in the middle of the floor, looking at the wall straight ahead of him.

"Hello." Sarah said after a while. The man was silent for a few moments.

Then, without turning his face he said, "Hi!"

He stood still for a few moments more, then turned and walked up to her with a spring in his step.

"Hello again." She said, after he hadn't said anything for a while. She tried unsuccessfully to see anything of his face. In addition to the fedora and the cloak, he also seemed to be wearing a black turtleneck that came up over his mouth and nose. Only his eyes were visible. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes! I—" the man hesitated for yet another moment. Then, "I was wondering… what… you think of the weather we've been having so far this season? Hm?"

He waited for an answer. Sarah was getting worried. Was this some sort of… strange… pick-up line that she would be walking into by answering?

"Um. No comment." She said finally, hoping that would put him off.

The man's eyes looked to the side, brow furrowed. He looked back at her. "And how is business?"

What did he mean by business? Sarah was sure this couldn't possibly be an innocent question, it had to be some sort of dirty double-entendre. She just couldn't figure out what it was supposed to be. But she wouldn't be played by this guy.

"Also no comment." It seemed to work the first time.

The man was sweating now. Of course, it could have been the turtleneck and cloak that were doing it. Sarah watched as he tried to think of something else to say, his eyes darting around the room.

"Look, sir, are you going to buy something or not?"

The man's eyes focused on her again, and he seemed relieved.

"Oh, yes! I'll take like a hundred pounds of your most expensive stuff."

Sarah rolled her eyes up to the corner and then back again. "Please be serious, sir. My time is precious." It wasn't really, but it felt good to say it.

"Not a hundred pounds then?" the man sounded nervous. "How about fifty pounds? Or actually, make that twenty pounds. Twenty pounds please, or ten, of your most expensive meat. Please."

"Which is it, twenty or ten?"

"Five."

"My most expensive cut is beef tenderloin. It's going at fifteen dollars per pound. Is that what you want? Five pounds of beef tenderloin?"

"Yes. That's definitely what I want."

"Alright then. Just a moment."

Sarah went out back into the freezer to get the requested meat. Five pounds she could do. Fifty would have been more than she had on hand at the moment. Who was this creepy guy, anyway? She wished her boyfriend were there to help her deal with him. She was alone in the store at the moment, and some moral support would have been nice.

She emerged carrying the meat in white paper, and placed it in the snazzy silver grocer's scale. Five pounds exactly. Sarah was good.

As she was wrapping the meat up, the man stood by awkwardly and watched. Finally, he said,

"So… we're pretty much friends by now, right?"

Sarah stopped, but didn't look up. "No, sir. I'm the butcher and you're the customer. I'm afraid the relationship is going to have to end there."

The man looked crestfallen, though it was a little bit hard to tell. Sarah pulled off her disposable plastic gloves and rang the price up on the cash register, which was a snazzy old grocer's register with those things that stick up at the top.

"That comes to one hundred and fifteen dollars." She said, because tax takes too long to factor. The man just stood before her, looking tragic.

"Don't you like me?" He asked finally, his voice cracking emotionally.

Sarah didn't like to see anyone cry, not even creepy, strange-looking strangers. So before she could stop herself, she said –

"Oh, don't _cry_, okay? I -- I like you fine. Here's your meat. That comes to one hundred and fifteen dollars."

"Haaaa!" It wasn't a laugh, more of a lingering syllable of happiness. The man reached out and took her hand, much to her surprise, and said, "I _knew_ you liked me! I should have done this six years ago!"

"Six years?" Sarah sputtered, as she tried to peel this guy's hand off of hers. It wasn't working, he had a grip like a vice.

The door of the shop opened, and both of them looked up. Sarah felt a wash of relief.

"Hey, beautiful!" said the lithe young man as he walked up to them, the picture of fancy-free youth. He had a wide, expressive mouth, slightly sunken eyes, and a lamentable case of chronic bed-head that no doctor or wigsmith had yet been able to cure. And, since this seems to be a good place to info-dump, I'll also mention that he was wearing a black turtleneck and dark blue jeans. And sneakers.

"Chichester!" Sarah fairly shouted. The man holding Sarah's hand eyed the newcomer warily.

"You know this guy?"

"Let go of my hand!" Sarah tugged some more. Chichester, who's first name was Norman by the way, came up to the counter beside them.

"Is there a problem?" he asked. Sarah sighed, and indicated the man in black.

"This guy refuses to let go of my hand."

"Well, can you blame him?"

"_Chichester,_" Sarah lowered her voice in the hopes that only he could hear. "He's sort of been creeping me out since he came in. Can you help me here?"

The man in black had noticed something about the hand he was holding. One finger in particular had caught his attention. Or rather, something around that finger. He looked up in agitation because, although Jareth had spent all that time spying on Sarah through his crystals, somehow or other he had completely missed this little detail about her life.

"Hey!" he shouted, holding up her hand and pointing at the ring. "What's this?"

"That's my engagement ring." Sarah was finally able to snatch her hand back. She held on to it protectively.

"Engagement ring!" the man in black stood up straight, swishing his cloak around in agitation.

"Look, I have one too!" Chichester held up his hand and smiled good-naturedly. He was still hoping this could all end on a friendly note.

Nope.

The man in black tore off his fedora and pulled the turtleneck down from his face. He removed a piece of sweater fluff from his mouth. Then he put both hands on his hips and faced them angrily.

"Well, I'm Jareth the Goblin King and I say nuts to that action!"

Okay, time to do something. Chichester vaulted over the counter and stood in front of Sarah, who was now hyperventilating. They were obviously dealing with a nutcase here, and the police would have to be called.

"Is there a panic button under the counter?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Won't do any good!" she wailed, but Chichester pushed it anyway.

"Listen pal, the Police are on their way. Either vacate the shop right now, or stay and get arrested for harassment."

Jareth tossed his head and laughed. He was feeling more on top of things now that they knew who he was and all.

"Oh Sarah –"

"Don't!" Sarah shouted. "Don't even start! Get out of my shop, you lousy baby-stealing bum!"

Baby-stealing? Chichester wondered where the heck _that_ had come from. He appreciated the randomness of the comment, though.

Jareth looked momentarily hurt. "You said you liked me, you _just_ said that!"

"That was before I knew who you were, Jareth. Man! So Franklin is right? You - you _love_ me?" The look of abject disgust on her face was truly and utterly lost on Jareth.

"Yeah, I've pretty much been pining over you for six years."

Chichester felt that he should say something. "This obviously goes a lot deeper than I had suspected. Sarah, who is this man?"

"I'm Jareth, King of all Goblins! Said that already!"

"I was talking to Sarah. And the Police are still coming, man."

Sarah looked hard at Jareth, decidedly unromantic sparks visible behind her eyes. She pointed at the door. "Get. Ye. Hence."

Jareth looked right back at her, and had an enormously brilliant idea.

"Fine!" And he reached across the counter and grabbed hold of Chichester's arm.

"Hello?" said Chichester in surprise.

"What are you doing?" Sarah looked panicky all of a sudden. "Jareth, what are you doing?"

"Take a wild guess." He grinned. Now it was Chichester's turn to try and make Jareth let go, and he wasn't having much more success than Sarah had.

"Are you--?"

"Yeah, I am! Thirteen hours. You know the drill."

With that, Jareth snapped his fingers and both he and the worried looking Chichester vanished from the butcher shop. Sarah stood there, staring at the spot they had just been, and waited for the Police to arrive. When they did, and the man in the lead walked up to ask her if everything was alright, she explained that her fiancé had just been kidnapped by the King of the Goblins and she was going to go and get him back. She should be a few hours. Then she turned her back to the Police, and when she turned around again it was the Labyrinth that met her eyes.

"Daw, phooey."


	4. Chapter Shi

CHAPTER SHI

"I'm ho-ome!"

Pooktook looked up. He'd been sitting on the arm of the throne waiting for Jareth to come back from his errand.

"Huh?!" Chichester looked around the throne room in shock. "What happened? Where are we?!"

Pooktook was off the throne and across the room in one second flat.

"Whoa, no no no no no, _Jareth_, what have you been and gone and _done?!_"

Jareth smiled and thrust Chichester into the middle of the room. "I've set things in motion again! Sarah's running the labyrinth as we speak. I've got barrels of time to win her affections back before the end of the thirteen hours!" He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "This is going to be fun!"

Pooktook, one hand on hip, pointed at the young man standing before them. "Who?"

"Oh yeah, _him_. He's an interloper."

"It's not _Toby_ again, is it?"

"_No, _you think I'm dumb or something?"

"It's just that you _did_ list that as one of your ideas before. If he's not Toby, who is he?"

"Norman Chichester," said Chichester, who was fighting against an urge to break down and start gibbering. "I'm Sarah's Fiancé. What's this about Toby? _Sarah's_ Toby? Who are you people?"

Pooktook stared at Chichester, then at the smirking Jareth.

"Her _Fiancé?_ Jareth, what are you thinking!"

"I know, I got there just in time eh?" He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Chichester was tied up tightly with ropes.

"Hey! What?" He shouted.

"No no. Jareth, you are going to take this young man back this instant and apologize to Sarah!" Pooktook stomped his foot like a Father who will not be disobeyed. Jareth put his hands on his hips and bent down to glower back at the glowering Garden Pnome.

"Nope. I'ma do this my way."

"Oh, because it worked so well the last time!"

"What's going _on?_" Chichester broke in.

Jareth looked over at the increasingly frantic Chichester. "I'm going to let you explain it to him, okay Pooktook? Or don't, you know, just whatever. But I'm locking him up first."

Jareth snapped his fingers, and suddenly Chichester was standing, tied up, in a cage that was just taller than his head.

"Huh?"

"Jareth!" shouted Pooktook.

Jareth snapped his fingers again, and a huge padlock appeared on the door of the cage.

"No!"

Jareth snapped his fingers yet again, and the cage was now hanging from a hook in the middle of the ceiling, where it swung back and forth from the agitated motions of its very surprised occupant. Jareth smiled at Pooktook and held his fingers up, daring him to raise another protest.

Which Pooktook didn't do. He closed his mouth, but continued to glare pointedly at the Goblin King. Jareth, satisfied, turned on his booted heel and started up the steps toward his chambers.

"I'm outy. Got some serious planning to do and whatnot. Catch you later." He turned, just before rounding the corner at the top of the stairs. "And Pooktook?"

"Yes?"

"Don't."

--

Franklin D. Svelte was skipping along to the music in his head. He was skipping through the green-screen forest, of course - since that seems to be the natural Fiery habitat -, his long arms swinging out at his sides and his long, string-assisted legs bouncing him along at a good clip.

"La la la… icky-do, icky-do… aaaah-ah… ooos."

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and pricked up his ears. Had someone just called him by name?

"Uh… nope." He shrugged after a while, and continued on his merry way. Four steps further, and the voice came again. He stopped, listening really hard this time.

"Yyyyesss?" he called.

"Franklin?" came the voice again. Franklin clapped his hands and started skipping in the direction the voice was coming from.

"Commming!"

The word 'caution' wasn't in the Franktionary, you see.

Fortunately it was only Sarah. When Franklin finally got close enough to see this fact, his joy was such that he immediately launched himself from the bushes at her head with a cry of –

"Yo-he-_hooo!!!!_"

Which was not a word per se, but was in the Franktionary regardless.

"No taking my head off!" Sarah shrieked, trying to pry him from her shoulders.

"Sarah! Sarah you're here! You're going to marry me now????"

"No, Franklin." She said, giving up on removing him, but no longer worried about decapitation. "I'm definitely not here to marry you."

Franklin was non-plussed.

"_Buuuut_," she continued, "I do need your help. What do you say, want to help me out?"

Franklin was once again plussed in the extreme.

"I'd do anything for you dear - _anything_ - for you mean _everything_ to me!"

Aw. Sarah was glad to hear it.

"I've got to get to the castle beyond the goblin city again, and I don't really know my way from here on. Last week Hoggle had mentioned that he was going to be out of town for a few weeks visiting relatives, and Ludo and Sir Didymus have been on that giant quest of theirs since January, so I need a guide. Are you up to it?"

Franklin was instantly suspicious. "Wait. Are you here to see Jareth? You are, aren't you!"

"After a fashion, yes. But in largely the same capacity as last time. I'm not here to marry _him_ either."

"Then who _are_ you here to marry?"

"Nobody! I'm not in love with anyone from the Labyrinth, Franklin."

"I can't say that's entirely a relief." Said Franklin, crossing his arms and looking away, maintaining perfect balance on Sarah's shoulders. "But it's a start. At least we'll get to spend all kinds of time together before we get to the castle. You'll probably change your mind about me along the way!"

Sarah fingered her engagement ring and thought of Chichester.

"Doubtful." She said quietly.

--

In this, our most varied chapter to date, a new character is about to be introduced! She – yes, _she_ – is new to this narrative, yet strangely familiar to all fanfic readers worth their salt.

She is --------------------------------------- The Love-Struck Rival Queen!

Daw! But I shouldn't have just up and said it, so we'll away to the narrative now.

My Lady Em was sitting sideways in her royal throne, with her knees pulled up under her royal chin.

"Hey, Bathazar?" she called to a short young man with curly red hair. He looked up from the puddle where he'd been mopping the already spotless mirror floor.

"Hm?"

"Has the mail come yet?"

Bathazar had to think for a second. "Uh, yep. Three more invitations to three more royal balls, one thank-you card from the Duchess of Grubadub for the fondue set last November, and your new issue of _Y'ello?_ came in."

"Oh goodie, there's a recipe in this one that I wanted to try. Uh, so… no news from you-know-who?"

Bathazar rested his chin on the mop handle and sighed. He'd gotten very good at sighing over the years. But his wasn't the long, ragged, noisy sigh that Pooktook took so much pride in. Bathazar was master of the short, nearly silent sigh of long-suffering good humor.

"Nope. Nothing."

"Drat!" My Lady Em snapped her gloved fingers, which is hard to do, with frustration. "Honestly. Maybe he still hasn't noticed it yet. Do think it's possible?"

"Hasn't noticed the giant 'May Contain Chickens' sign painted on the side of his castle? It's entirely possible."

"We _are_ talking about _Jareth_, after all." She chuckled, and was silent for a few moments. "Think I should visit him?"

"You do whatever you _want_ to do, Em." Bathazar went back to mopping. Personally, he couldn't understand His Lady's fascination with _Jareth the Goblin King_, of all persons. It certainly wasn't for his _kingdom_, the fabulously frumpy Labyrinth, and the guy himself was a slovenly dork! But she'd been pulling his pigtails for months now, figuratively speaking, setting off prank after prank hoping to elicit some reaction. As her personal confidant and Janitor, Bathazar knew it wasn't just out of mischief. But so far nothing had worked, not even the letter bomb.

"That's what I'm going to do. I'm going to do it!" She tapped her knees in excitement, then stood up from the throne, her ample skirts tenting around her. "Want to come, Bath? Forget about the mopping."

--

**Hey guys, this is my first Author's Note in this whole fic! Thanks for all the stupendously motivating comments. Zounds, you guys! And sorry for the month-long hiatus there, but – as some of you should be able to understand - I was busy winning NaNoWriMo! WooHoo! In other news, I've got this story plotted all the way to the end and so far I'm still enjoying myself, so who knows—maybe this fic will have an end! Let us all hope.**

**I have to say though, this is not my favorite chapter for some reason. What do you think of the characters here? Feedback please!**

**-Artoveli-**


End file.
